bengali love poetry [bangla premer kabita / বাঙলা প্রেমের কবিতা)

re achenA

Rabindranath tagore

Knowing you Will not be easy. Not in gentle whisperings, ear to ear. I shall win you - Your hesitation, your doubts - With clear force of strength Out of uncertainty, out of shame, out of doubt, Into the unforgiving clarity of light.

kAler JAtrAr dhvani shunite ki pAo

This poem appears in Shesher kabitA. The storyline is ultramodern - the lovers amita and lAbanya decide to stay apart so that the daily grind of life does not dilute their love. This poem is amita's farewell to vaNyA.

Hush! Listen to the wheels of Time - his chariot rushes invisible pulsating in the heart of eternity crushing underwheel the despairing blackness from whose fractured heart spring stars like teardrops. O my friend, that onrush of Time ensnared and lifted me onto his chariot on the path of reckless adventure far, far from you far - whirling beyond countless deaths far - to this sunrise-kissed mountainpeak and behind us, flapping in the wind trailing in the vortex of the chariot traces of my name, me, myself. Today across the path of no return if you catch a glimpse from afar you will know me not. Farewell, my friend, farewell.

One day when at leisure, spring wind in your hair, a sigh rising from distant nights of despair -- the tears of the fallen lily will fracture the sky -- look for me then, stirring all that have endured half unforgotten in a corner of your soul. Trace me in your tears -- Will it then illuminate? Will it bring some joy? Will it appear as a nameless dream? But no, dream this is not, it is the truest of all my truths this that I leave for you is my love this is my immutable offering deathless. Changeless, I leave this behind while life carries me on along the streams of change wheeling with the flow of time. O friend, Farewell.

Seek not to count your loss when from earthen clay you can create a deity ethereal -- let us celebrate with a votive evening dance - an Aarati a play of prayer where dust from my daily touch will not sully flowers from my heaped prayer plate will not fall. At this feast of the soul we shall set the table with our languid dreams athirst for expression. In it I shall not mix the gold hidden within my dust that which is wet from my tears. Perhaps even today you will create out of my unborn fate dreamlike words -- consonants weightless, timeless they will not dwell -- O friend, farewell!

Grieve not for me today. I have my work, I have my universe. my cup is far from empty and new tasks keep coming . . . But in life's ups and downs if there is someone awaiting eagerly my return -- how fulfilling it is. She who brings me the rajanigandhA to adorn my votive plate she who looks on me in tender compassion mixed bundle of good, bad and indifferent for her I shall offer myself as the sacrifice in today's prayer. That which I have given you already is yours unrestrained now my gift of trifles I offer to you from my heart add them to your ineffable wealth. Let it be known that that which I had given you was in truth your gift to me -- the more you have taken the more you have left me in debt. And now Farewell, my friend, farewell!

From shesher kabitA

[At one point, amita and Lilly are sitting side by side on the bank of the ganges, and the moon is setting on the other side. p.11-12]

Amita: The moon across the ganges, and you and I on this side -- in the infinitude of time such an eventuality will never come again.

Lily: But that frog that jumped, that will also not happen again...

Amita: Oh but there is a vast difference! The frog jumping is a random event, whereas you and I, the moon, the river, the starry sky - have all orchestrated a delightful creation, a moonlight sonata! It is as if there is a lunatic jeweler at some heavenly forge who just created this unparalleled jewel-encrusted ring -- and then immediately threw it into the infinite ocean...

Lily: That is fine then - you didn't have to pay for his labour!

Amita: But imagine, Lily, that aeons later we are standing by some forests edge in some remote planet in this universe, and like the ring from the fishes stomach in Shakuntala, this moment were to reappear before us... what would you do?

Lily: I would throw it back into the ocean! amita - who knows how many such creations of the mad jeweller have you thrown away and forgotten!

Woman Poets

Namita Choudhury

Namita Choudhury is a poet from the 70's generation of authors. These are taken from a number of her books.

Moonstruck

chandrAhata

Are you hungry? Why not eat then? No. I am not hungry. Who can be hungry After drinking A whole bowl of moonshine?

Endless white night Sheets my terrace sky And the moon comes To gouge out my eye. Put in the stone eyeball -- Scalpel, scissors, sutures All in order Except for me, myself. A fool, I sit unbathed, undressed Bowl in hand Waiting only for my first sip Of moonshine. Then, I will put my life on hold And scrape the dried dregs of moonshine Crust by crust.

A love poem (ekaTi premer kabitA)

Tonight my determination Penetrated you - end to end - Again and again. I can't tell why this happens Some days I go from one village to another Beating my message on the drums -- Like the rose that leaves its prick A brown stain on the palm.

See how close I am tonight? How naked? How mad?

Twenty-First century romance

ekaviMsha shatAbdIte

I shall go on a secret tryst Tonight. I have adorned myself With swords and scimitars And a single carnation. I shall go now To my secret lover Asleep in his secret bower With his secret claws-teeth-jaws. From one end of me To the other He will claw me in dance And then he will devour All of me, eyes, flesh, heart Licking up the last dregs. All this I know Yet I cannot turn back. I cannot fly I cannot swim Walk this path I must.